Gaelic Goddess

"Come and visit sometime soon," she said, then walked away, hips swaying in a sexy taunt as their eyes followed her out of the grove. Her father followed her quickly, hands trying to adjust his massive erection.

Tom raised his eyebrows and looked Rhiannon. "Close family, huh?"

"I'll tell you the full story later," she said with a slow, sultry smile. "I'll just say that I get my randiness the old-fashioned way. From my parents." Around them, the apartment swam back into view. She crawled off him and pulled the knife out of the wall, shameless as a child, the signs of their lovemaking gleaming on the pale skin of her body. Working quickly, she undid the knots that tied Tom to the bedposts, then took the thin cords in her hands.

She handed him two and took the others for herself.

"Raise your arms," she said, then proceeded to use the cords to wipe away the various spatters of fluid which marked his body. Once done, she braided the cords together and tied them around her left wrist, the resulting bracelet no thicker than her smallest finger.

"Your turn," she said, turning in place, her lovely body exposed to his view. He knelt and dragged the cords slowly over her, soaking them with blood, milk, sweat, semen, and the fragrant fluid of her need. Clumsily he fashioned the cords into a bracelet of his own and tied it around the left wrist, the one closest to his heart.

"You know," he said, "these are going to smell after a while."

She gave him a haughty look. "I am a goddess. If I can't keep a pair of binding cords, symbols of your status as my consort, from being offensive, then I might as well join Baal and Tiamat and the rest of the losers who don't have any more worshipers."

Suddenly she embraced him, breasts flattening as she pressed close. Even after his colossal orgasm of a few minutes before, he could feel his body reacting to her, and she shifted happily as his cock began to harden once again, pressing hotly against her thighs.

"Any regrets, my love?" she asked, her arms tight around him.

He bent and whispered into her ear.

"Rhiannon ni Brigit, I have loved you since the first moment I saw you at my grandfather's funeral.

"By the way," he grinned, "that reminds me of a joke."

"What do you call a dead lawyer?"

She smiled up at him; free, radiant and triumphant.

"A good start."

The End